


Strung Up Like Puppets

by elivan, Gargant, VSSAKJ



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 03:39:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4289307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elivan/pseuds/elivan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gargant/pseuds/Gargant, https://archiveofourown.org/users/VSSAKJ/pseuds/VSSAKJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bisley Karcsi Bakur has some very interesting criteria for his two favourite potential Soul Bridges to meet. And doesn't pay his secretary enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strung Up Like Puppets

**Author's Note:**

> This is some sketchy PWP. Hooray porn! The rape/non-con archive warning seemed too severe for this, but please be advised the consent in here is dubious at the absolute best.

“Sigh~” Nova slammed the door to their apartment shut behind her and leaned against it, a pout on her face.

Vera glanced up from her paperwork. “What is it today, Nova?”

“Julius Will Kresnik.” Nova sighed again, flinging herself upon the couch next to her sister and raising one hand to her forehead dramatically, “He's just so _dreamy_ , Vera.”

“Oh.” Vera tried and failed to keep from pulling a face.

Nova sat up and fixed her with a look, “What, don't you think so? Who are you into, then? Go on, tell me, I'm your twin. There has to be someone in Spirius you look at every day.”

“Does there?” Vera hedged, feeling her cheeks start to colour despite herself. She swallowed great gulps of tea while it was still too hot, refusing to meet Nova's inquisitive gaze. There was no way she could explain...

 

“Julius.” Bisley's voice rippled through the room like molten lead, holding each of them rigid in the palm of his hand, “I think Rideaux's been working very hard recently. Make yourself a place for him to rest his feet.”

Rideaux's face lit up with excitement, a beacon in the dim half-light of Bisley's vast office. Vera stood half-forgotten behind her desk, clutching her clipboard to her chest and schooling her features to diplomatic nothingness as her heart began to beat faster. Bakur was in a mood.

Julius frowned. “I don't understand—”

“I do.” Rideaux interrupted, crossing the room to splay his long limbs across the low couch and brandish one leg out in midair, “It appears I'll be needing a footstool, Julius.”

A muscle in Julius's cheek twitched, and his throat moved around swallowed words. Finally, he choked out a directionless question, “Why?”

“What reason do you need, Julius?” Bisley's voice tempered to steel, “It's a matter of assessment, like all things between you.”

Julius turned his face away, muttering, “I don't see how—”

“I see a fine candidate for a task I know you both relish.” Bisley's voice boomed over Julius's, his threat apparent, “Julius shall have to be the one no one misses. A pity I haven't got other options.”

Rideaux smirked with dangerous delight. Something worked in Julius's throat—a name he couldn't speak, Vera thought—and he went rigidly down on one knee, fist clenched.

“All fours, Julius.” Bisley clarified unnecessarily, as Rideaux gleefully kicked at his spine. Julius gave in and dropped down into the prescribed position, grinding his teeth around the weight of Rideaux's heels working in the small of his back. Rideaux oozed infuriating self-satisfaction as he lounged comfortably, and Vera caught herself forgetting to breathe as she felt one of her own knees shudder. She remained stubbornly upright, having not been given leave to sit, and wondered what Bakur was up to. His face was unreadable, his smirk too commonplace to attribute.

Rideaux wallowed gloriously in his prize until Bisley's voice dropped like a stone through the middle of the room. “That's enough. It's warm in here. Don't you agree, Rideaux? Remove your clothing.”

Rideaux blanched. Julius pushed himself upright and brushed off his knees; Vera did her utmost not to squirm, dry-mouthed. Rideaux rose slowly and shakily to his feet, letting his great feathered boa slither off his shoulders with a rustle. His whole mood had changed and filled the room with malcontent suspicion, his body tight and tense.

“Too slow.” Bisley remarked, making a motion. “Julius, strip him. We must ensure he's hiding nothing from us, mustn't we?”

Rideaux breathed a curse and shoved away Julius's tentative hands, refusing to meet Julius's meaningful gaze as he slipped out of his coat and unclipped the bracers strapping his scalpels to his wrists. With an ungainly bending of the knee—one hand seizing Julius's shoulder for a bare second—he freed a further set from his ankle. “There.” He snapped, fixing Bisley with a firm look, “Nothing hidden. Are you happy now?”

Bisley chuckled, throaty and deep, and Vera felt the sound lance through her; she shivered. “You misunderstand so clearly, Rideaux. Julius, proceed.”

Firmer this time, Julius pressed his hands into Rideaux's shoulders for a brief moment before moving them to the button of Rideaux's shirt collar. Rideaux was a pillar, unresponsive until Julius's fingers brushed the long, precise medical scar along his breastbone—then he shuddered violently.

Julius hesitated for a second, then continued peeling away Rideaux's layers, with an intense, focused urgency that Rideaux visibly recoiled from despite standing still. Finally, a haphazard heap of green and red pooled at a naked Rideaux's feet, and he turned slightly to one side as his cock quivered halfway at attention.

“Well.” Bisley spoke without inflection.

Rideaux glared daggers at Julius, the safest target for his ire.

“Assist.” Was all Bisley said; Vera sucked in a breath and held it, her knees trembling.

“Rideaux—” Julius began, but Rideaux cut him off, “Shut up.”

Julius set his expression in marble and took a firm grip on Rideaux's cock; Rideaux did not react.

“Go on.” Bisley's iron and velvet voice again, and Julius's hand began to stroke, a repetitive mechanical motion without intent to please.

Rideaux grinned then, manic and feral with a hand clutching Julius's neck, and jeered, “Is that the best you've got, Julius? I've known fakes better than you.”

“Damn it.” Julius breathed, loosening his grip and focusing on Rideaux's pleasure. Rideaux's cock responded eagerly, straining towards the attention while the muscles in Rideaux's ass twitched with the effort of holding him upright. _'Fakes better than you.'_ The words thudded in Julius's ears, and he pumped Rideaux's cock vigorously, snarling under his breath, “So have I. Worlds of them.”

Rideaux punched him and Julius went sprawling; there was a sharp snap as his glasses broke against the floor. Rideaux's cock wavered needfully in the air, at odds with the livid expression on his face. Vera stared at the scene, enraptured.

“Now boys.” Bisley seeped between them again, poisonous and heady. “Julius, strip.”

A moment later Julius was standing once more, was sliding his jacket and then his shirt off, was placing his clothes and shoes in a neat pile beneath the two halves of his glasses. Gingerly, he checked the side of his face where Rideaux's fist had struck; Rideaux stood stock-still not an arm's length away, his chin set at a haughty angle.

Bisley eyed him. “Well?”

Rideaux's hand snaked towards Julius's half-mast, but Bisley made a quick noise of disapproval in his throat. “We can do better than that, can't we, Rideaux?”

With a look of pure, wordless fury, Rideaux went to his knees and bent his head. Vera shifted her weight and swallowed, conscious of a trickle of moisture daring to creep down her inner thigh. She found it hard to breathe through the tension in the room, and loosed her composure enough to press a hand to her desk for support. Bisley's eyes danced over her and returned to the two men in the centre of the room.

The office filled with sucking sounds, punctuated in places by leaps in Julius's heavy breathing. When Julius's fingers clenched in Rideaux's hair and yanked for more, and Rideaux's teeth smiled in tight, violent, victory, Bisley spoke again. “Stop.”

With a pop, Rideaux released Julius's cock; Julius staggered, unable to stifle a desparate, disappointed moan. The tip of his engorged cock brushed against his abdomen, glistening with saliva and precum.

“What a shame it would be to waste that.” Bisley commented idly. “Vera.”

Both men and woman jumped, each having forgotten her presence. She forced her voice to be calm despite the heat pooled within her, “Yes, sir?”

“You have moisturizer.”

Vera's mouth opened, then shut, then she carefully opened the top drawer of her desk and extracted a small pot of unscented vaseline, her so-called moisturizer. Nova always criticised her for using something so bland, but she thought she liked it. Now, she held it in one hand and considered the possible ramifications if Bakur decided to involve her more than he already had. Disliking the excitement the thought provoked, she dropped the pot in the middle of her desk.

“Very good.” Bisley spared a cool smile in her direction before raising a hand to both Rideaux and Julius. “The choice is yours, boys. Stay where you are, or thank good Vera for her kind generosity.”

Julius looked at Rideaux with lidded eyes, his breath uneven. “Rideaux.”

“Don't be stupid, Julius.” Rideaux snarled, his penis flagging. He stalked over to Vera's desk and deftly opened the pot of vaseline, coating his fingers as his eyes glittered malice in Vera's direction, “I'm sure you're having the most _wonderful_ day. You fucking bitch.”

“Rideaux.” It was Julius's voice again, scolding this time, curiously full of the same timbre as Bisley's. Then he'd closed the distance and his hand was at the nape of Rideaux's neck, pushing Rideaux down towards the desk as his other hand fingered between Rideaux's legs.

“Don't fuck around, Julius.” Rideaux gasped, his hips jutting forward against the desk as he braced himself; Vera scooted some unfiled paperwork away from his messy fingers and tried not to imagine what they might be capable of. Rideaux bared a grimace in her direction as she startled into her seat, one hand darting to the cleft between her legs.

Then Rideaux laughed under his breath, all glittering malice, as Julius fumbled with the vaseline. “Rideaux—” He spoke again as his fingers probed into Rideaux's wriggling ass.

“Haven't I told you to shut up, Julius?” Rideaux hissed out between grunts.

“I'm _sorry_.” Julius growled, shoving himself inside. Rideaux cursed, wincing, and Vera felt her cheeks go red, her own fingers rubbing firmly at her wetness. Julius fucked Rideaux rhythmically into her desk, and Vera needily fucked herself while Rideaux never once broke eye contact with her, his expression lurid, furious, and terrifying.

The sex was finished near so soon as it started; Julius was drawn too taut to hold up for long, and Rideaux's pleasure had long since subsided. Rideaux winced again as Julius failed to remove himself before coming, and cast a disgusted look at the semen running down his legs as he rose back to full height. Vera thought she might choke, biting her own tongue and forcing her fingers away.

Julius began to stride across the room when Bisley's voice froze them all in place. “Very nice, boys.”

Julius gaped before he could stop himself; Rideaux turned to face Bisley without a care for his own nudity. “Is that all you needed from us?” Somehow, his tone held partial deference despite the sneer on his face.

“It'll do. Get back to work, both of you. Vera, clean up the mess.”

“O-of course, sir.” Vera congratulated herself on only the barest of hesitation, swallowed away the last of her throbbing arousal, and stood to attend. For all the improprieties she'd witnessed today, she could forgive herself partaking in minor masturbation.

Julius, slowly easing into his trousers, spared a moment to cast her a sympathetic glance; Rideaux, several tissues discarded in his wake, was already fully clothed and sweeping towards the door. Vera wondered how he could march away so confidently, as though he hadn't just been forced into sex, and caught herself precisely before she wondered what expression his face might bear if he wanted the fucking.

 

“Vera? Hellooooo~? Anyone at home in there?”

“Oh.” Vera blushed hotly. “Sorry, Nova. I just think, if you knew some things about him, you wouldn't...”

“You can't say that!” Nova protested loudly, “I know you won't tell me what it is. Unless—” Nova gasped and pointed a finger square at Vera, “You like him!”

Vera scoffed. “I don't like him, don't be ridiculous.”

“Who is it, then? Who were you thinking about just now? You have to tell me, Vera, I'm your sister!” Nova argued emphatically.

“No! It's no one, Nova, stop it.”

“Come on!” Nova persisted, and Vera knew she wouldn't be giving up any time soon. But this was one secret Vera couldn't share—the bright, violent grin that she saw in her dreams, and the feelings it prompted when she woke. No, Vera couldn't tell her twin how utterly distracting she found Rideaux Zek Rugievit, because then she'd have to explain why.


End file.
